


The Night My Friend

by Ricochet713



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fanon, Gun Violence, Implied Gabriel Reyes/Jack Morrison - Freeform, Implied Reaper76, Mech-related Violence, Sombra likes to tease Reaper cus he's a big softie, Talon - Freeform, do mechs count as oc's???, gee there isn't even swearing in this, non-canon plot, probably not, self-indulgent fic, talk about tame..., writing fics for fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 05:05:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8519620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ricochet713/pseuds/Ricochet713
Summary: Sombra accompanies Reaper on a mission to cross another name off his list, but all doesn't quite go to plan.





	

Working with Talon had its perks. Taking orders had never been Sombra’s strong point, and she’d rather be making her own plans than following someone else’s, but Talon offered protection, and that was something Sombra direly needed. It wasn’t the safest protection she could have asked for; if Talon discovered that she was less than wholeheartedly loyal, she could find herself at the wrong end of the sword. Even so, it was still better than the alternative. Sombra shuddered, remembering the painfully bright red light and the hollow, white outline of the staring eye. At least Talon was a tangible enemy.

It hadn’t taken Sombra long to break down how things worked in the rogue organisation, particularly their operations and agents. In that time, she’d decided that there were three types of jobs that she found herself on. Most of the time, they were Talon Jobs – like the attack on Volskaya Industries. But like the Volskaya attack, she could sometimes manage to carefully twist these into Sombra Jobs, as long as she made sure to cover her tracks. This particular job, however, was the third type: what she liked to call a Reaper Job.

“So what did this guy do to piss you off? Insult your outfit?”

A crackling sigh rattled through her comm device.

“Sombra…”

“I’m assuming he’s ex-Overwatch, _sí?_ Is that really all it takes to get onto Reaper’s list?”

“Widowmaker never asked this many questions. Should have brought _her_ along.”

Sombra laughed. “But I’m a lot more fun. And last I checked, Widow couldn’t even hack the wifi code.”

Another huff over the comm. Reaper had always preferred to work with a small crew – if any crew at all – but when it came to getting through security networks, everyone in Talon knew there was no better agent for the task than Sombra. The screens hovering in front of her blipped to life, and with a flick of her finger she brought up a grid of the area.

“What about that vigilante? What’s his name…” Sombra tapped a luminescent nail against her chin. “Oh, that’s right – Soldier 76. He on your list?”

A sharpness entered Reaper’s gruff tone. “Sombra.”

She tapped a finger against the screen, watching it split into three separate, smaller sections, each portraying a different set of code: one for the security cameras, one for the automated doors, one for the turret systems. A few more taps and the cameras were down.

“You know, he’s been giving Los Muertos a lot of trouble back home. It wouldn’t be so hard to have Widowmaker take him out…”

“That’s enough, Sombra.”

Anyone else in Talon – aside from, perhaps, Widowmaker – would have heard his tone and had the smarts to drop whatever subject they were pursuing, but not Sombra. She’d always been a risk-taker, and besides, for a reason Sombra didn’t care to investigate, Reaper had never shown the same aggression towards her that he often turned on other, less-vital Talon agents. From what she’d gathered after having worked with him for the past few years, she’d come to realise that despite the dark and dangerous vibe he gave off, he was a bit of a softie at heart. All the better to poke at.

“I had a look at his files the other day. His resemblance to your old _amigo_ Jack Morrison is pretty hard to miss…”

A growl. “Sombra, I swear…”

“ _Relájate_ , don’t get your leather twisted.” She chuckled, waved her fingers, gave a few more taps on her screens. “Doors are open, you’re in.”

Glancing back at the screen portraying the layout of the dormant omnic factory, Sombra watched the green dot that was Reaper move into the factory’s main area. Hacking into one of the security cameras and relaying its feed to her screen took only seconds, and she was able to see Reaper as he scanned the area, a dark shadow of a man, bone-white mask and silver shotguns catching the faint stream of moonlight through the open door. She noticed the light glint off something against the wall behind him.

“Hey, Reaper,” she grinned, her fingers working quickly as more screens lit up around her. “You remember that mech at Volskaya Industries?”

“The one I destroyed while you lost the target?” Reaper grunted.

“Yep, that’s the one.” There – just what she needed. And not too hard to decrypt, either. “I bet it would be easier to take this guy down if we had a mech on our side, right?”

A moment of quiet. On the camera, Reaper tilted his head slightly, turned to glance at the mech in question. A huff through the comm.

“That’s not the approach I had in mind, Sombra. If he’s here…”

“We can blast him out of hiding,” Sombra cut him off. “Don’t worry, I’m already on it.”

From her spot in a small control room on the landing above the factory’s production floor, Sombra could glance out the small, reinforced window and see the mech in-question. It was even bigger than the one Reaper had faced in Volskaya, and had no visible cockpit, meaning it was most likely remotely controlled. It look a good deal older, as well, and a little less high-tech. Child’s play. Smirking to herself, she made quick work of its online security system.

In a mocking voice, she declared: “I’m in.”

On the security footage, Reaper stepped back as the mech gave a low whirr and a groan.

“You’ve got control of it?” Reaper asked her – if Sombra didn’t know better, she’d almost say that he sounded worried.

“ _Sí_ , of course,” Sombra replied, leaning back. “Now all we have to do is…”

The screen in front of her, which had previously depicted sets of code describing the mech’s various commands, suddenly flashed red, and a bold **ACCESS DENIED** message glared out at her. Sombra blinked. What the hell?

“Uh, Reaper… You might want to get out of there…”

“What? This better not be another prank, Sombra.”  Reaper barked into the comm. She looked to the security footage and cursed under her breath. The mech was stirring, lifting itself up on its mechanical legs until it was just shy of the factory roof. The machine gun that took the place of its left arm rattled as it was loaded.

“Get moving!”

“Sombra! Report! What is…”

The scream of metal cut him off. The entire factory trembled as the monolith machine took a lumbering step forward and pointed its multi-barrelled machine gun right at Reaper. The roar of the gunfire was deafening – flashes lit up the factory with each rapid-fire blast as the bullets sheered cleanly through metal and glass. With less than a second to spare Reaper wraithed away, the bullets cutting through the thick of trail of smoke as he ducked behind a corner and reappeared.

“ _Sombra, this is no time for tricks!_ ” he snarled.

“It’s not me!” she yelled back, frantically working on her screens. “It had some kind of hidden defence system, like they expected someone to hack in…” She shook her head. “It’s like they knew…”

“I don’t care how it happened,” snapped Reaper, “just get it back under control or give me a hand!”

Keep trying to hack through this new defence system or go out and face the giant killer machine – not a hard choice. But, while she was really only using Talon to her own benefits, she wasn’t about to let Reaper get blasted to bits if she could help it. The guy wasn’t all bad, after all – just a little grumpy – and if Sombra had gotten him into trouble, she’d do what she could to get him out of it. Time for some hands-on hacking.

With a wave of her hand the screens vanished, and Sombra raced out from the control room and onto the catwalk. The mech was firing round after round into the wall Reaper was hiding behind, its hulking body slowly advancing with heavy, lumbering steps.

“I need you to draw his fire towards me so I can get that gun offline!”

“Right.”

As the mech paused to reload, Reaper leapt out from his cover, shotguns snarling as he unloaded his clips into the mech’s automated knees, making it stagger and splattering the floor with oil. He loped across to the other side of the factory, below the catwalk where Sombra stood; the upper half of the mech’s body followed him, clicking as it slotted a new belt of ammo into its gun.

“Head down!” Sombra yelled, extending her hand. Neon lines shot from her fingers to attach to the mech’s arm, lighting the wires up with a purple glow. The machine gun roared, ripping into the floor below her, then sputtered. The clip flipped open, scattering massive bullets harmlessly over the ground.

“Got it!”

Her celebration was short-lived. The mech lifted his head, turning its attention to her very vulnerable position on the catwalk. Its shining, glass eyes fixed on her, and it drew its right arm back, mechanical fingers clenched into a fist.

Sombra had nowhere to go. Her translocater wouldn’t be ready in time to teleport her out of there, and she couldn’t run fast enough to get out of the way. With a groan of its old gears, the metal first rocketed towards her, and she braced, shielding herself with an arm as a rushing sound filled her ears. A heavy weight that was – thankfully – _not_ the mech struck her side, and she was thrown roughly to the metal grating of the catwalk, sliding out of range of the mech’s fist as it ploughed into the concrete wall behind her. She skidded to a stop, cushioned by strong arms around her torso, and a warm weight against her. Who…? _Reaper_.

He gave a pained grunt as he unfurled his arms, allowing her to sit up a little. Smoke still wafted off him in curling tendrils, and he covered his side with a clawed gauntlet. He must have wraithed onto the catwalk and knocked her out of the way in the last second before she would have been crushed. If it wasn’t for him, Sombra would be splattered over the wall.

“You…” she started, paused, found herself at a loss for words. _Saved me_ , was what she had been going to say, but disbelief stopped her. Reaper was a fellow agent and had worked alongside her on many a mission, but she never would have expected him to care about her enough to risk his life to protect her.

He shifted, grunted again, clutched his side. “Can’t finish the job without you,” he grouched, unconvincingly aloof.

The catwalk screeched and lurched beneath them. Sombra yelped in alarm, hands scrambling for something to hold her, but her fingers slipped over the metal, and as she watched, the catwalk underneath her began to bend downwards. She had time only to fling her hands forward before the metal snapped with a loud _crrrack_. It gave way underneath her, and for a second she dropped, helpless, arms stretching for a ledge just beyond her reach. Only for a second; Reaper’s thick arm grabbed her by the waist, lurching her to a stop. Her out-stretched arms wrapped instinctively around his armoured frame.  She winced, feeling the claws of his gauntlet dig into her side; his other hand gripped a portion of still in-tact railing. Hanging from the remains of the catwalk, they swung precariously as the mangled section they’d previously been standing on fell to crash against the factory floor with an ear-splitting clatter.

“Hold on,” Reaper hissed through the noise, his voice pained.

His arm loosened around her, and her grip tightened with a sudden shot of panic, eyes still fixed on the ground far below. Reaper gave a growling cough.

“Not that tight!”

He let go of her to instead grab the back of her coat, claws curling into the flexible material. He tugged at it, trying to lift her, but Sombra hesitated, reluctant.

“Sombra…”

The struggle was evident in his voice. He might be super-soldier turned undead super-villain, but the years – and existing in a half-alive, half-dead state – must still take their toll. Shutting her eyes, Sombra gradually released him, gasping as she felt herself being lifted and almost flung up and over the edge. She scrambled onto the relative stability of the catwalk before turning to help Reaper drag himself up alongside her. Once he was in the clear, he collapsed, panting, and Sombra leant back on her hands, equally breathless, blinking at the gap where she had been just moments ago.

“You… I would have…” She looked at Reaper beside her, struggling to move onto his side. “Thank you...”

With a grunt, he managed to get onto his knees, smoke spilling from his frame in random bursts. “Just shut this damn mech down before it kills us both,” he grumbled.

“Right.” Sombra peered over the edge; the mech was bent over, inspecting the ruined catwalk for signs of life. From the high angle, she noticed a hatch at the back of its head. An internal control room.

Perfect. Standing, she pulled out her translocater from her belt and thrust it at Reaper, who looked up at her, still struggling to stand.

“I need you to get this on that thing’s head. I can’t get up that high, you can. I’ll distract it.”

Despite the mask, Sombra could feel him frown at her. He considered her for a moment before sighing. “This had better work…”

With her free hand, she helped him up, glad that he was more mindful of his claws this time. “It will, trust me.”

He shot her a look through the mask that Sombra wished she could see. His head tilted slightly as he reached out to take the translocater.

“Alright.” Then he disintegrated into smoke and rushed past her.

The dark streak leapt from the railing onto the crouched mech, puddling briefly as it landed by the gears of its wrist. The movement caught the mech’s attention, and it lifted itself up to watch as the smoke began trailing up his arm.

“Hey! _Pendejo!_ ” Sombra drew her pistol from her belt and fired a few shots at its face. “Over here!”

It rumbled as it looked over at her and rose to its full height again, a little wobbly on its knees after Reaper’s early blasts. Sombra turned and dashed along the catwalk, twisting to fire shots at it every few strides. At this range, the bullets did little more than ping harmlessly off the metal plating, but they succeeded in distracting the mech, and it turned its body towards her, glass eyes flashing. Reaching a stairway, Sombra leapt the steps three-at-a-time, darting just out of reach of the mech’s grabbing fingers.

“Any day now, Reaper!”

She looked up towards the mech’s head and spotted dark smoke beginning to pool and reform there. Reaper appeared, carefully controlling his balance as the mech moved, and bent down to firmly attach the translocater to the metal plating. It gave off a glow that turned Reaper’s bone-white mask purple.

“Ready.”

“ _Perfecto_. Gimme a minute and I’ll have this mech shut down.” She waved her fingers, and a second later found herself dizzyingly high up, swaying as the mech rocked beneath her. Thank goodness her footwear had good grip. As she knelt down and began to carefully climb down towards the hatch, she heard the _pak pak_ of Reaper’s shotguns, having already wraithed his way back to the ground to take over the machine’s attention.

“I’ll keep it busy,” he told her through the comm, “but don’t take all day.”

“Don’t worry, I’m on it.”

“The last time you said that…” He was cut off for a moment as a bang sounded below.

“Reaper?!”

A huff. “Worried about me, are you?”

“No. Just… I don’t wanna have to explain to Talon how I got their top agent killed.”

“I’m flattered.”

The hatch creaked open, and Sombra slipped inside. It wasn’t quite a cockpit, but not really a control room, either – if anything, it seemed like a monitoring station. Regardless, it didn’t take Sombra long to find what she needed, and even less time to hack into it. And this time, she made sure there were no hidden surprises. With a few taps, the screen flashed brightly with a purple sugar skull-shaped set of code. _Estableciendo conexíon._ The mech froze, buckled, and hunkered itself down into the idle position they’d found it in. Sombra left a few codes to keep out whoever tried to use it next – just for good measure, and in case she ever found herself in need of a mech – before exiting the hatch and gracefully leaping her way down to where Reaper waited. _Terminando conexíon_.

Tossing his spent shotguns aside, he folded his arms across his chest.

“Next time, we follow _my_ plan.”

“No promises.” Sombra gave a chuckle when Reaper shook his head at her. “What about our target?”

“After that, he’s either long gone, or was never here.” He glanced around at the wrecked factory, shoulders lifting and falling in a quiet sigh. “Let’s get back to Talon.”

Sombra nodded, turning serious – the sight was rare enough that Reaper, before he could begin striding away back to their carrier, paused. “Listen, Reaper… Thanks for saving me back there. Would’ve been in a lot of trouble if it weren’t for you.”

The mask was unreadable as ever, but he tilted his head slightly, and his voice was about as close to gentle as it could get. “I don’t leave anyone behind, so long as I can help it.”

Sombra’s easy smile returned, a careful combination of teasing and fondness glinting in her eyes. “You know, for someone who tries so hard to be all dark and mysterious, you’re not such a bad guy.”

At that Reaper looked away, shoulders slumping slightly. Sombra watched him as he took a few slow steps towards the factory entrance, limping slightly, smoke curling around his feet. When he did speak, the gentleness was gone, and he instead sounded tired. Tired, and even a little sad.

“Then you know less about me than you think.”

He smoked away, leaving Sombra to follow along on foot, frowning to herself. She’d read every file she could find on the famous and infamous Gabriel Reyes, and had gone through Talon’s entire database on the mercenary called Reaper. Maybe it was the other way around. Maybe she knew more about Reaper than he knew about himself. Maybe Reaper didn’t know that, somewhere behind the mask, he was still the man he used to be thirty years ago, who would never leave a member of his team behind. If her work with Talon went belly-up, Reaper could just be the ally she needed to keep her head above water.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a pretty self-indulgent fic I wrote after the "Infiltration" short came out that I only really posted because of No-Shame November. I wanted to explore a bit of my maybe-partly-canon headcanon that Sombra and Reaper have a sort of teasing mentor/mentee relationship where Sombra is bit of a pain in the butt and Reaper tolerates it because he tries to look out for her. I just love seeing/reading/writing them working together and I can't wait to find out what her in-game voice lines with Reaper are. Fingers crossed Blizzard doesn't disappoint!  
> Anyway, very tame fic that is meant to be purely enjoyable. If you like it, that's awesome and please leave a kudos and/or comment! :) Thanks for reading!


End file.
